Light It Up
by LittleTortillaDaddy
Summary: Elfman discovers a seemingly abandoned child which he takes as a sign: this is his atonement for what happened with Lisanna. Lucy appears to have no memories of her past life, repeats what she hears, and proves to be an excellent mimic. Fairy Tail pitches in and helps with raising her and attempting to piece together life. Unfortunately, no one counts on the 'seemingly' part.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Light It Up' nor am I profiting from this.

Pairing(s): gen.

Warning(s): none.

Word Count: 1,289 words.

I gave up fighting the muse as she demands this story. I have roughly 500 words completed on the second chapter/part and will post that when it is complete and I have time. Thank you so much every reader, reviewer, follower! I appreciate it so very much!

* * *

Elfman discovers her behind a tavern dumpster. Boisterous screaming, hearty laughter, and tankards clinking together silence her determined rummaging through the garbage. Her hair and skin are caked with dirt, mud, and he suspects dried blood? Elfman crouches down and rests his chin on his knees.

"I see you're hungry," he murmurs. "Is there someone inside? Is there someone you know?"

Someone inside howls and demands a rematch. Her determined rummaging becomes more frantic as the howling grows louder and louder. Her breathing becomes hurried as the howling transitions into laughter, sighs, and footsteps. Determination becomes fear, her breathing turns heavy, and without warning, she turns and scurries off.

It is only a moment later the taverns back door is wrenched open, and a man reeking of alcohol is tossed face first onto the ground. His thrower plants his hands on his hips and sighs. Their apparent relief transforms into agitation upon seeing Elfman, though.

"I don't have anything for beggars," they warn. "I've already warned the kid: next time I catch her begging, she'll receive more than a scolding."

"You don't need to be so harsh on her," he scolds. "Isn't there anything you can give her or her parents?"

Their face softens into something nearly sympathetic, "A lot of children here are without parents, and unfortunately, we don't have enough to go around. I exchange food for children willing to work in the restaurant but she doesn't seem to understand anything. The child just repeats whatever anyone says."

His face loses its sympathy, and he turns back towards the tavern door. Elfman waits until the noise rises again and he's certain the man is truly out cold before he looks towards the girls hiding spot.

"Its safe now," he calls. "I know somewhere where you can get food. I can help you."

Her chin wobbles as she creeps closer. Elfman is suddenly hyperaware of her stench: garbage, snot, tears, and urine. He maintains a smile and extends his hand, though.

"Its safe now," she parrots. "Its safe now."

"We're going somewhere safer than this," he promises. "I am Elfman Strauss, and what is your name, little one?"

"Lucy."

* * *

Her arms and legs are covered with bug bites. Her heels and toes have blisters which he suspects are becoming infected. Lucy neither complains nor whines, though even as she begins limping alongside him. Elfman reaches down, hoists her up, and settles atop his shoulders. Lucy dips forward and rests her cheek against his hair.

"We're nearly there," he says. "A nap won't make you miss supper. We always make way too much anyways."

Her mumble disappears in a yawn. Her yawns dissolve into murmurs, parroting his promises: nap, supper, and nearly there. Her murmurs dissolve into steady breathing which continues even as he approaches the guild. His neck and shoulders are beginning to twinge from her weight but waking her seem unfair. However, her persistent stomach growls decide for him.

"We made it," he says and shrugs his shoulders. "You can wake up now."

Lucy sniffles and buries her face in his hair, "Is supper now?"

Eflman shifts her from his shoulders into his arms and settles her into the crook of his elbow. He takes a deep breath, bracing himself as he grabs the doorknob, "We'll get supper. we have to meet the master first, though."

A mission demanding, he acts as a bodyguard for a royal in bandit country would be easier than attempting to sneak Lucy through the guildhall. Everyone lowers their raised drinks and mumbles their greeting. Lucy cranes her neck and points towards random guild members. her pointing would be much less polite did she not mumble: 'master' and then look towards Elfman for assurance. Happy breaks the increasingly uncomfortable silence with an excited squeal and hovering over her face.

"Elfman brought home a baby," he sing-songs. "Is she really yours?"

Happy dangles his tail in front of her face and appears disappointed when she continues her point and ask game. Her finger swivels once more and finally land on Master Makarov. Lucy glances back and forth between them.

"I see we need to have a conversation," he says. "Erza will be monitoring supper tonight, and I ask no one interrupt us. Please prepare a plate for the little one and come join me."

"I'll get it," Mira volunteers gives him a vicious scowl. "I'll bring it up and join you."

* * *

Lucy hunches over her plate with a protectiveness better for beasts than a little girl. Food covers her cheeks and chin as she stuffs more and more into her mouth. Every few bites she pauses and gulps water before she resumes.

"You complete a mission but return with a child. It's obvious she requires food and medical care. I fear the consequences of this rash decision, though. Where are her parents? How much do you know about this child?"

"I discovered her behind a tavern dumpster where she was searching for food. It seems multiple children there are orphans, and he exchanges food for work, but all she does is mimic others."

"I see." He nods. "However, this remains a rash decision and not one you can easily take back should it become overwhelming. A child has not only put their trust in you but is now holding you as their provider."

Lucy, still chewing stands up and wanders over with her now empty plate. Master Makarov chuckles and slides from his desk, "Her trust might currently be stemming from food. I stand by my statement, though. Would you like some more than, child?"

Lucy scans her empty plate and glances between him and Elfman. Her lower lip pooches forward into a determined pout as she pushes the empty plate onto Elfman's lap.

"You don't have to rush through meals here," he promises. "I think we should let this food settle before we get anymore. Would you mind going with Master Makarov for just a minute, though?"

Her determined pout immediately becomes a panicked quiver. Master Makarov gapes and slaps a hand against his forehead, "I must be shrinking, little one or that meal made you taller. I cannot quite tell, though. I think we need some input from the other guild members."

Her grip on the plate loosens but does not completely relax. Lucy clutches it against her chest as she follows him back outside in the stunningly quiet guildhall.

Mira perches on the desk and waits until the noise resumes before she sighs and slumps forward. Her scowl is exhausted more than frustrated. Her eyes drift towards the now dirty corner and then back towards him.

"We've been over this before," she sighs. "No one will replace Lisanna."

"I know that and have no intentions of replacing her. I should atone for what happened with Lisanna, though. I found her digging through garbage and hiding from the owner because she knew he would punish her. no one else will take her in because too many children are without parents and this one appears to not understand anything and just repeats what she hears. I couldn't leave her there when I could bring her here and make things right."

"I still don't know how to feel on this," she warns and shakes her head. "sure this is the right thing to do. but caring for her isn't going to be some easy overnight thing – I saw how she ate and the condition her feet were in. I need time for this one."

"I understand." He nods. "We all need time for this."

"What's her name anyway?"

"Lucy."


	2. Chapter 2

Hello!

Thank you so much for favoriting, following, reviewing, and reading! I hope you enjoy chapter two!

* * *

Were she given a choice then Mira would make Lucy undergo a thorough scrubbing, washing, dress her blisters, and throw her clothing into the garbage before putting her to bed. Lucy immediately squashes these hopes, though. Upon seeing them reenter the hall, she drops the master's arm and rushes towards them, grimacing as her too-tight shoes pinch. Cooing, Elfman kneels and grabs her, lifting her over his head and keeping her there for a moment.

"I think we should head home," he says and looks towards his sister. "I'll bet carrying would be more fun than walking, though."

"I am throwing her shoes away," she mumbles under her breath but peels them off anyways. "I might burn them actually."

Excitement and fascination among the guild remain high but has settled into a dull buzz with alcohol and full stomachs. Erza observes them with a cautious, curious expression and this is a rare moment that she cannot bring herself to fault Erza for doing so. Everyone is attempting with varying degrees of success to sneak glances or outright stares. Master Makarov waves them towards the door and shrugs his shoulders.

"I can give everyone the news," he promises. "I demand you three go home and rest now."

Elfman raises his free arm and gives everyone a grin. "I solemnly swear this to everyone: no matter what happens, I shall return to my manly ways."

Tonight, his masculinity has been reduced into carrying a sleeping child. Mira ignores his awed coos and chuckles for the times she twitches or mumbles, and instead focuses on making a mental list of her immediate needs.

Her blisters, other possible injuries, and her weight are her immediate concerns. Yeah, her brother has required treatment before on far nastier blisters on far worse feet. Her weight poses an entirely different danger, though.

Overfeeding her will be an easy temptation, especially when she pushes empty plates into their laps and flashes big eyes towards the children lovers in the guild or parents like Macao.

Her clothing and shoes aren't worth saving. However, throwing them away might incite a temper tantrum or worse a breakdown. Convincing her brother that sewing is a manly activity shouldn't be too difficult, especially when she mentions his project will involve crafting a very stained comfort item.

"I can give her a bath tomorrow," she says as they approach their apartment. "I'd rather not risk her waking up and getting her second wind this late."

His pace slows even more as they approach the stairs. "I know she has bug bites. I don't know whether she has any stings or vermin bites, though."

Mira matches his pace and for the first time, that night observes her closer. Her legs are caked with bright pink welts in numerous sizes. A few have been punctured from vicious scratching while others are still relatively small. Her stomach clenches and she's suddenly grateful that she chose to snack over a full meal tonight.

"I'll check tomorrow," she promises and grimaces. "We better take her to our healer as well."

Tonight, she can only run over her mental checklist again and again while she creates a bed on the couch. Elfman gives her an appreciative nod as she tucks the blanket in around her feet and pushes her too-long bangs away from her eyes. "I'll leave the bathroom and hallway light on tonight. I don't know how she could fear the dark anymore. Our place is new though."

"I don't know that she fears the dark. Lucy might fear what hides in the dark."

Mira grimaces and squares her shoulders against an uncomfortable shiver. "I'll pretend her dreams are filled with desserts and whatever else she wants. Now, I suggest we do as the master commanded and get some rest."

Unfortunately, rest does not come easy for her. Mira jumps with every creak, groan, and even snore. Her brother, a renowned heavy sleeper and chronic snorer remains unaware. Her sleep doesn't arrive until she hears a pause in his jagged snores and then – a content and tiny sigh.

* * *

Someone keeps poking her eyelids. Mira groans, tugs her covers up towards her chin and presses her face down into the pillow. A thumb begins prodding her ear; folding it over and attempting to shove the lobe inside.

"You could've woken Elfman," she whines. "How come you chose me? Wait, did he lock his door?"

Lucy blinks and pushes her own earlobe inward. Is this some game? No, she refuses to play a game which involves mutilating one's ears this early in the morning – night? Mira cocks her head, an action which Lucy imitates.

"I can give you a bath," she offers. "You can play the game in there."

Lucy pushes her too-long bangs away from her forehead before reaching out and doing the same to Mira. Her hand then moves from her forehead towards an enormous tangle. Her mouth puckers into a frown and

Mira gives what she hopes is a sympathetic smile.

"I can fix your bangs," she promises. "I might even be able to fix this bedhead."

Her promise garners a reward: impossible patience from Lucy during her bath. Mira remains aware that she likely hasn't bathed for months and fears losing the privilege again should she exhibit any behavior deemed as acting up. Lucy follows every request with little fuss: head back, eyes closed, and quit picking those bites.

Her skin flushes pink with the scrubbing and soap. Mira takes care to avoid her bug bites and blisters. Her hair will need thinning and cutting, but she's beginning to see a warm gold as she strips more and more grime away. Her bath water is beginning to turn cool and has developed its own grime when she hoists her from the bath.

"How're you feeling now?" Mira grabs a towel.

Lucy rewards her once more with a coo and hand against her cheek. Her garbage, snot, tears, and urine reek has been replaced with shampoo and soap. Her hand is still warm from the bath water and continues stroking her cheek. Mira covers her hand and smiles.

"Now – we try and find something for you to wear."

Mira searches for and finds her smallest clothes. Her tank top continues slipping from her shoulders, though and her pants sag around her hips. No matter their size, she marvels over the clothing and follows Mira through the apartment. They pause in front of Elfman's closed door.

"I say we wake him up for breakfast," Mira knocks until his snoring stops. "Elfman makes breakfast while I get my morning routine done. Then we visit the healer."

Lucy looks between her and the door. Her knock lacks fury in favor of being far timider. Lucy then steps back and puts her hands over her mouth and nose before squealing, shrieking, and snorting.

"I do not sound like that Mira!"

* * *

In our next installment: Elfman, Mira, and Lucy visit the healer and a Fairy Tail member attempts helping Lucy with her communication skills.

Does anyone have any guesses on the member?

A little heads-up for everyone: I am currently in the last weeks of the semester which means a slowdown in updates. I will be writing when possible and posting when time allows (health problems and stress allowing).


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Fairy Tail' nor am I profiting from this.

Warning(s): none.

Word Count: 953.

Summary: Lucy visits the healer and recieves her first lesson in communication.

I appreciate every favorite, follower, reviewer, and reader! Thank you so much!

* * *

Lucy is an unexpectedly difficult patient. Her curiosity provides her with unlimited distractions in the healer's office. Elfman attempts wrangling her with a sweet and swearing it takes just a second. Mira sighs as Lucy ducks between her legs yet again.

Their healer chuckles warmly. "I would have an easier time examining her would she be still, but her energy is refreshing. I can start by asking: what are your concerns?"

Elfman stretches an arm until his knuckles brush the ground; an invitation for Lucy to use him as a climbing wall. It provides her with a temporary distracted which allows Mira to pinpoint their concerns and the healer to perform a rather rapid exam.

"I am not accusing her." Elfman receives a look from both of them. "Have you noticed her picking or scratching her bites or blisters?"

"I caught her attempting to scratch in the bath this morning, but she listened when I said stop. I haven't seen her picking her blisters," she says. "Several were already open though."

"I can see some are extremely inflamed and she, unfortunately, has a few infected bites. I can give you an ointment which will combat the itchiness and another to combat her infection."

Elfman raises his arm and nearly sends Lucy flying. Instead, she clings to his bicep and swings back and forth, delighted.

"I knew you were strong," he praises. "I've had some nasty blisters, and hers belong to manlier men than me. How should we treat those?"

"Her pants are going to come off," Mira scolds but makes no moves to stop them. "How should we treat her blisters?"

"Do not attempt popping and draining them. In public environments, apply a thin layer of this ointment here and keep it covered. Her bandages can be removed at home, though." Their healer scribbles something down onto what will become Lucy's file. "I have a few more questions for you."

Elfman sputters, flushes, and looks towards his sister for help with: is she potty trained?

"I guess she is." Mira shrugs. "Her blanket was dry this morning, and she used the bathroom before bathing, but her understanding of boundaries and privacy are non-existent."

"You can teach her boundaries and privacy. I would like to see her gradually gain weight. Experiment with food to discover what she likes and dislikes. Allow her to watch you eat unfamiliar foods; doing so will encourage her to try them."

Her file makes a thumping sound as it's dropped onto the counter. "Now, has she indicated any signs of trauma or anything linked to her previous life? I would like to see her communication skills improve beyond sound and mimicry."

Elfman peels her from his bicep and settles her onto his lap. "How much does she actually understand right now?"

"I believe she does not understand everything has a word which identifies it. Lucy will repeat what she hears and follow orders as she understands them, but it does not necessarily mean she understands their meaning. It could be that she knows doing so will earn her a reward or praise. Teaching her how to communicate will be a long and often frustrating process."

His grip on Lucy tightens. "I think we have someone that can help."

* * *

Reedus blinks owlishly and sinks slowly onto his usual stool. "I am flattered. I do not understand how I could be any help, though."

"Her communication is limited through sounds and mimicry." Mira grins. "You communicate through art, and we cannot teach her by ourselves."

Reedus purses his lips but nods. "I can try. Bring a stool over here and sit her down."

As soon as she is settled onto the stool, Mira pulls her brother away, insisting that hovering will only cause distraction on both sides. Her tone leaves no room for attempted arguing, and her brother is forced to watch from across the room.

Reedus raises a paintbrush and then presses it against her palm. Its dry strokes over her palm, wrist, and arm elicit a puckered brow and lips. Her toes curl tighter and tighter and her ankles cross and uncross. It gets pressed into her hand. Lucy grips it too tightly and performs sloppy brush strokes over his palm, wrist, and arm before thrusting it towards him.

"It is a paintbrush." He presses her fingers against his mouth. "Paint-brush."

Lucy presses her fingers harder and presses the paintbrush against her mouth. A reassuring nod is not enough to convince her and attempt speaking. But she does wave the paintbrush and then tap his cheek.

"I see you understand ownership," he chuckles and points towards the siblings. "Do you know their names?"

She raises her chin and points towards them and then pats her chest. Elfman clears his throat, squirms in his chair, and blinks furiously. No one else is around to witness his potential tears, but he sits upright and swallows hard until the burning stops.

"You cannot really own a person," he murmurs. "Elfman is your guardian now, though. Mira is helping him too which also makes her a guardian."

"You'll overwhelm her," Elfman says. "You jumped from paintbrushes into guardians and ownership."

Reedus chuckles good-naturedly despite Mira smacking him upside the head and preparing for a scolding.

"I will show her another form of communication then. I certainly don't mind sharing my art supplies so long as she doesn't become better than I do." Reedus stands and drags her stool over to his easel. "I should warn you: several members are highly eager to meet her. Gray and Natsu have even agreed to behave themselves for the first week."

"I expect them to behave whenever she's here."

"You and Erza might just get along then."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Fairy Tail' nor am I profiting from this.

Warning(s): none.

Thank you so much every favorite, follow, read, and review! It is greatly appreciated! Please feel free to send me a private message should you have any questions.

I will be using some real-life experience in this series; I have worked extensively with a severely developmentally disabled person, and we worked on some food related issues which you will see in Lucy.

* * *

Reedus exchanges his paintbrush for a palette and scoots her closer towards the canvas. Humming, he grabs several paint tubes from one of his bags and squeezes them. He then dips a finger into one, a deep orange color and brings it towards his mouth.

His finger is nearly touching his mouth when he stops, shakes his head, and makes a disgusted face. He repeats the actions over and over until Lucy nods her understanding.

"Now, take however long you like. Everyone here knows our rule: no bothering the artist. Even our resident loudmouths follow that rule."

Mira gives him a thankful smile as he approaches the bar. He hoists himself onto a stool with a sigh and glances from Lucy back towards the siblings.

"Happy was disappointed last night," he says. "I saw him spend most of the evening pouting. I think he would prefer a baby over a small child."

"I suspect Happy will get over his disappointment," she says. "I asked our healer for a rough estimate of her age, and Lucy was guessed to be five-years-old, but her development? It feels like someone gave me their toddler without any instructions."

His chuckle is good-natured and devoid of any mocking. "I assure you, no child has ever come with instructions. You learn from family, friends, and the child themselves."

Her brother claps her shoulder with an enormous tanned hand. "I say that you're doing just fine. Lucy didn't get any soap in her eyes this morning, right?"

"I cannot understand how not getting soap in her eyes lines up with caring for her."

Elfman gives Reedus a nod like this is something only men can understand.

"I see no problems." Reedus smiles. "Lucy seems like an eager and well-behaved child. You will encounter conflict and difficulties as she discovers her independence, though, or she when she gets tired."

His scoff is as confident as his nod. "I am sure we can overcome any temper tantrum or exhaustion induced behavior."

Now, was she gifted with clairvoyance, Mira would take the opportunity and pull her brother down for a smack upside the head.

* * *

Breakfast, chatter, and curious stares coax lucy away from her painting. Her clothing, face, and even her hair is caked with paint which means another bath tonight, but her expression is content. Happy gasps before covering his mouth with his paws, kicking his feet back and forth as she navigates her way through several pairs of legs.

"I think she shrunk overnight," he squeals. "I'll go and get the special chair!"

Natsu grins and shakes his head as he takes off. "I know, I know; we tossed the special chair once Romeo picked crouching or standing. I can't bring myself to squash his enthusiasm, though."

"No one is faulting him for enthusiasm." Mira lifts her and searches for an open space. "I am more concerned with her being rough."

Lucy cranes her neck and squirms, an attempt to glance over the offered breakfast dishes. Mira sighs and lifts her higher on her hip. "I know you prefer Elfman, but he is getting our food."

"Happy will pile an entire plate with fish just for her." Natsu wrinkles his nose. "Her squirming is making me feel sick."

"We gave her breakfast." She hisses as Lucy digs her heels in and lifts herself higher. "It was quick, though since we wanted the first appointment, and could you please take her and find a spot?"

Her eyes water as Lucy digs her heels in more and more. Her hands press down against her shoulders. Natsu blinks and looks back and forth between them. He shrinks into his scarf and looks prepared to run for the food until she gives him a scathing glare.

Natsu flashes a thin-lipped smile, extends his arms, and raises his voice over the chatter like that could make Elfman trust him more. "I am not going to drop you."

His experience with a newborn happy and occasional attempt helping with Romeo do little to prepare him for holding Lucy. Immediately, her knees are digging into his sides as she shoves her hands into his hair, babbling something which he thinks could be mocking or sheer amusement.

"I cant see like this, kid," he cries. "You don't have to pull it either. I could use some help, Happy."

Someone shouts a warning: still searching for the special chair, and everyone watches out since he cannot see. No one attempts quieting their chatter but does shuffle until he has a semi-clear path he can use to reach the tables. His shuffle is irritatingly slow, and he wishes he could turn around and apologize for anyone stuck with him, but he does not want to risk his hair being pulled out. His rescue finally, mercifully comes from Elfman; grabbing her and spinning her towards their plates.

Erza watches their arrival with clear unease. Her fingers flutter from her napkin already across her lap back towards her plate. Her unease becomes visible disgust as she watches Lucy. Her hands, already dirty with dry paint build new layers as she descends upon her food. Her fists press against her mouth; food leaking from between her fingers as she swallows with every inhale. Any scrap she cannot remove from her hands is shaken onto the table and floor, scraps which she expects will end up on someone's shoes before the broom can be brought through.

Lucy glances towards Elfman as her plate dwindles more and more. Her chin is now caked with food and erza can see she is still chewing. Elfman does not immediately take notice as he motions for someone to come join them. Frustrated, she turns and scans the platters until she spots what she wants. Her stomach clenches and then plummets as she reaches for one.

Erza pushes her hand away. "We don't do that here, Lucy."

A different child would likely be deterred and ask for help. Instead, she gives her a fierce scowl and once more attempts grabbing straight from the platter. Erza grabs her wrist and shakes her head. Her scowl intensifies and she twists around until she grabs onto her arm and pinches hard.

Erza gasps and tugs away. Lucy seizes her opportunity and tugs the platter closer to her. Huffing, she reaches over once more and pinches her hand. Lucy unleashes a pained howl, and she realizes then everyone is staring as she scrambles onto Elfman's lap.

"I think we've had enough for now," Mira announces. "I can take her."

Elfman does not meet her or anyone else's eye as he stands. "I can carry her."

Now, her stomach clenches for an entirely different reason.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Fairy Tail' nor am I profiting from this.

Warning(s): none.

Word Count: 1,122.

Nemu: Cana will likely make an appearance, but I cannot really see Flare or Sorano contributing anything.

Thank you so much, everyone, for being so patient! I genuinely appreciate it! I became swamped with last minute projects and finals, but am very much prepared for a long summer of writing.

* * *

Lucy's howling bubbles into sobbing and then dissolves into hiccups. Her hiccups become sniffles, and his wet shoulder her pillow. Elfman and Mira attempt and then quickly abandon their attempts to smile or wave away the annoyed, concerned, and sympathetic stares.

"I've tried dealing with tantrums in public," she sighs. "Breakfast didn't deserve to be spoiled for everyone else."

"I should've paid attention," he admits. "I don't blame either in their reactions. We better work on teaching her manners before we attempt another public breakfast."

"I need a minute," she warns. "I need an unhurried bath and nap which does not end with poking."

"I'll take the couch this morning." Elfman hums. "Lucy can take my bedroom."

Mira brushes her arm against his with an exhausted grateful smile. "I promise to do the shopping soon."

Neither discusses her breakfast tantrum, medicine cost, or the necessary shopping any further. Mira tiptoes from her bath with raw red skin and plush robe. Again, he receives that exhausted grateful smile before she closes her bedroom door with a quiet click.

Elfman gathers their forgotten dishes. Pre-Lucy he could and would leave them soaking in the warm dishwater. Now, he isn't sure whether she might attempt searching for soggy remains or worse, attempt eating the soap or drinking the water. He leaves them drying and uses the quiet morning to search for more post-Lucy threats.

It seems everything is a danger now. Anything with warnings for the consumer not to swallow or smell are moved onto the highest shelves and pushed far, far back. Its bound to be a temporary solution though as soon as she discovers how to climb. He could and probably should have someone with more experience come check the house for dangers. but then again it is his duty as the man.

His day becomes a not-so-fun and not-so-manly game. He crawls, climbs, and even forces himself into uncomfortably tight spaces. He emerges dusty, sweaty, and with a new appreciation for his sister, one which he vocalizes as she rounds the corner. Her hair needs another brushing, her face is puffy and streaked with pillow lines, but she appears rested.

"We should probably wake her up or she'll be up all night," she says. "I see you rearranged our apartment."

"I almost got stuck," he gasps. "Should I be sore? I shouldn't be sore, right?"

Mira pats his arm sympathetically. "You're going to feel far worse tomorrow. I am going to get Lucy up."

Waking her is not the challenge. Their challenge arrives once she realizes the apartment has been rearranged. Elfman plunges face first onto the now unoccupied couch and groans.

"We're doomed now," he says. "We have to rearrange the apartment every single morning now. Does she know how to pick locks? I'll bet she does."

Were he given the chance, Elfman would use her distraction and Mira's good mood to snag a nap. His mounting hopes are squashed by an eager knocking and then the door opens. Natsu, gripping her easel from this morning, curses and tries turning sideways. Happy slips by him effortlessly with a smug smile.

"Erza sends her apologies for this morning," he says. "We invited her over, but she thought the guild would be a more neutral place to apologize for what happened, face-to-face. Reedus asked we bring her artwork here."

Natsu drops it onto the couch arm with an undignified grunt. "I hauled this thing without any help. Does that get any reward?"

"You can have a reward," Elfman says. "You can have a snack but have to interpret her painting first."

Natsu appears prepared to object but then plasters an excited grin on his face and motions for him to make room on the couch. Once settled he hauls the easel over and places it over their laps. A tall orange stick figure with long yellow hair and a beaming purple smile dominates the center. A similar one clings to its arm. They're surrounded by faceless figures in varying heights and weights. Happy crouches on Natsu's shoulder, humming and nodding like the painting makes any sense.

"We have visitors, Mira," Elfman calls. "They're willing to help us with Lucy in exchange for food."

Lucy glances towards him but instead chooses Natsu's knee. Mira perches on the arm of the couch by her brother and watches as Lucy re-examines her work.

Natsu taps the smaller stick figure. "Who is this?"

Lucy grins, thumping a hand against her chest, and then patting the stick figure. His finger slides onto the larger stick figure. Lucy coos and creates a makeshift cradle with her arms and rock them back and forth. when their expressions remain blank, she tilts her head and feigns sleep.

Happy curls his tail around Natsu's neck. "I got it. Is it your mother? Where did she go? Who are the other guys?"

Lucy runs a hand over the multiple faceless figures and climbs onto the floor. Her expression becomes dour. Her chin raises as she puffs her chest out and begins stomping around the floor. Elfman, Happy, Natsu, and Mira exchange guesses among themselves, but grow more and more frustrated as her game continues without a solid answer until she reaches for her waist.

Her expression becomes harsher as she draws a fake sword. Elfman and Natsu practically leap from the couch in excitement and attempt shouting their answer over each other. Mira shushes them and scoots forward on the couch arm.

"It must be either a guard or soldier," she says and taps the supposed mother figure. "Where did she go?"

Her harsh expression melts as she gives the possible mother figure a final pat. Lucy places her hand over its face and begins viciously scratching. Its smile becomes mutilated into a frightening maniacal grin. Its long hair receives a choppy haircut. Her vicious scratching then moves onto the faceless figures. Everyone exchanges uncomfortable glances, but makes no attempts to stop her.

Either satisfied or exhausted, she once more pats her chest and then the untouched stick figure. Elfman nods his reassurance: yes, you're alive and everything is fine. But her mother and those guards—soldiers? Does a ruined face mean dead? It could mean missing, but no one bothers looking for them anymore. What was an appropriate sign for dead?

Mira frowns and nudges his arm. "Its still a very pretty painting. Is she lost like you were?"

Elfman rises and motions for Mira to crouch on the floor. Elfman bends down and hoists her atop his shoulders. Once she balances, she repeats the question. "Is she lost like you were? Is she waiting for someone to find her?"

Lucy blinks, covers their ruined faces, and runs a hand over them.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Fairy Tail' nor am I profiting from this.

Warning(s): none.

Word Count: 1,727.

Thank you so much for reading! You better buckle up and brace for feelings.

I appreciate reviewers coming to my defense against Child-of-God16. I have reported their review as spam, and see getting a spam/troll review as a rite of passage. It does not bother me anymore and I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

* * *

Mira runs through her impossible-to-sleep routines: deep cleaning, practicing her answers for sorcerer weekly and doing meal prep for the week. For once, their apartment is actually truly clean. Her answers are memorized and neither she nor Elfman will have to be concerned with cooking. Despite her efforts, she winds up perched on the edge of the bathtub, counting cracks in the tile floor. A shadow creeps over the tiles and up the walls, growing bigger and bigger until Elfman is standing in the doorway.

"I can't sleep either," he says and joins her. "I've moved the painting everywhere I can think, but I can't unsee those faces."

"I keep waiting for her to wake up with nightmares. I guess Happy and Natsu really tired her out, though. Be sure to take them the extra dessert tomorrow."

"Staying home and hiding won't change what happened with Ezra," he says. "We have to get her used to socializing with others."

Mira purses her lips takes a deep breath and prepares for his reaction. "I am not avoiding anyone. I planned on traveling to that town where you picked Lucy up and questioning that tavern owner."

Elfman does not leap up. He does not begin scream objections and demands she stay here. Instead, he slumps forward for a moment.

"I know, I know, you're the one who picked her up, but Lucy is far more comfortable with you. I could use takeover magic but she would probably know, and that tavern owner only saw you once."

"You'd never perfect my manly aura," he chuckles dryly. "I can manage for a couple days. I'll bribe happy and Natsu with free meals as an exchange to tire her out in the evenings, and find other bribes so we can get help teaching her manners and communication."

Mira leans against his shoulder. "Please don't use Happy and Natsu to teach her manners."

Again, he chuckles dryly and slings a massive arm around her shoulder. Neither moves until the numbness spreads up their shoulders and down their necks. finally, she sighs, slips from beneath his arm, and begins dragging herself back towards her bedroom.

"I'd never confess this in public," he says. "I love you, though, and appreciate the help."

"I love you, too, and just so you know: telling someone that you love them is totally manly."

"A manly thing will be keeping the house standing while you're gone."

Mira wakes the next morning to a mostly intact apartment. Clothes are piled into a corner of the bathroom, barely safe from being splashed. Dirty dishes are soaking in now frigid water. A note sits on their kitchen counter, asking she he safe in her travels promising everything will be fine, and giving a rough description of the tavern, signed with Elfman's scribbled signature and some additions from Lucy. She writes a hurried response, packs a bag, and sets off.

It seems now that everyone in town has become keen to the situation. Mira receives polite, sympathetic smiles and even accusational scowls. A part of her fights temptation to turn just a little too fast, whack them with her bag, and exclaim she's just leaving for a little bit. Instead, she gives them what she hopes are friendly smiles and continues on.

Mira plays her usual travel games: create impossible questions no one would ever ask for a sorcerers weekly interview, count how many different shades she can spot, and practices changing faces. But she runs out of questions, everything becomes the same gray tone, and she has no more faces to change into.

Buildings become further and further apart, and then become rubble. Groomed, plump animals become less and less frequent compared to the emaciated mangy ones growling, hissing, and scurrying from sight. Even the emaciated, mangy animals disappear as she comes closer and closer to the town.

Their buildings are mostly intact. Several have aged poorly with obvious, amateur repairs. Broken glass and rust flakes cover the garbage Spilling from the alleyways. Someone appears to have attempted boarding windows once or twice but has admitted defeat after too many break-ins.

Children, scrawny and dirty, pick through the tall garbage piles. One stands guard, appearing unbothered with her while the others openly panic and run to find protection. Waving does not convince them to come closer. Smiling does not convince them she is friendly or safe. The few adults she sees are just as scrawny, dirty, and as frightened looking as the children.

Finally, she approaches an active building. screaming, laughter and demands for more alcohol, more food practically cause the building to vibrate she ducks into the alleyway and scans the ground. Any signs of her brother's footsteps have been buried under garbage and people wandering in and out of the alleyway, but it is definitely the tavern described.

Squinting, she searches through the rust flakes and broken glass for anything other than garbage.

It sits under some rotten food and a still dripping bottle. It must not have money or has already been cleaned out because this seems like the town where people are desperate enough to snatch a wallet wherever they can find it.

The material is nice, and could probably fetch a decent amount of jewels in a pawn shop. It seems no here has use for things like pawn shops or fancy wallets, though. Inside are four keys, three gold, and one silver.

"Celestial keys," she murmurs. "Loke could know something, but he might just run when he sees these."

Mira stuffs the wallet into her bag and straightens up just as the back door is kicked open. A flushed man huffs and drags two overflowing garbage bags behind him.

"Look, I've already told you and every other worker," he says. "I've given Mister Heartfilia this months rent, last months rent, and will pay him again."

"I have nothing to do with anyone named Mister Heartfilia," she says. "You're the owner, right?"

He nods but moves back towards the door. "No one can be served outside. You want a drink then come inside."

"I actually need to speak with you," she says. "I have experience with serving and can help until closing. "

Now, he hesitates. Inside, people shriek and howl. it sounds like someone has either fallen or lost their drinking contest. Someone whines for more alcohol. Sighing, he motions for her to follow him, pausing to toss her a dirty apron.

Closing time comes, passes, and she joins him in the cleaning process. Mira wipes down a table and watches his back as he flips chairs onto the tables.

"I really don't know anyone named Mister Heartfilia," she promises. "Who is he?"

"Mister Heartfilia is attempting to buy our town," he scoffs. "Were not a tourist attraction, stray children, and people are either living homeless or squatting in disgusting places. I haven't met him in person, because he always sends someone else in his place."

"What's his plans for the town?"

"No one will discuss that with us. No one will allow us to discuss setting up a meeting with him either."

He pauses, grimaces, and wipes his shining forehead.

Mira clears her throat, resumes wiping her table, and does not give her questions a second thought. "I've never visited before but heard tales from family and friends. I noticed several children wandering the streets, and wanted to know: where are their parents? How do these children survive? What happens to the children unable to find groups?"

"Our nearest healer is several days travel, and no one has the jewels to afford it. Women either pass giving birth or during the pregnancy, which leaves the children to fend for themselves while their fathers seek comfort elsewhere. A few fathers send jewels back for their children, but most leave. Living parents do their best, but we don't have a lot of work available."

"How do those street children survive?"

"Children beg, steal, or exchange work for food, water, and somewhere safe to sleep. A child without siblings, skills, or group usually starve or worse, are beaten for their crimes and pass from the infections their wounds develop."

Now, her throat feels thick and her tongue is somehow too large for her mouth. Lucy could've – no, would've been one of those children. Worse, how many children hid from her expecting a beating because they were hungry or thirsty?

"I know there are several children around here," she says carefully. "I am looking for information on one, though. I know she had no group or siblings. I know she would search through garbage for food but ran away whenever someone saw her. I believe someone attempted helping her, but she didn't seem to understand anything and just repeated whatever she heard."

His expression goes from recognition, sorrow, and then blank. "I remember her. I tried helping her by offering work in exchange for food, but she didn't understand. I even attempted getting one of the better off families to take her in, but that never worked out. I've been searching for her, but it seems that she's gone."

"Was she born here?"

"No, she wasn't, and people aren't fighting to move their families here," he says. "I think someone dropped her here, whether hoping she would succumb to the environment, or they just wanted to be relieved from their parenting duties? I don't know."

"Do you mean, she just showed up?"

"Like I said, no one is fighting to move their families here. A new person shows up here with clean clothes, combed hair, and shoes? A new person without communication or really any skills? No one will attempt taking her into their group."

"Who abandoned her?"

"I don't know," he sighs. "Do you know what happened to her?"

Mira opens her mouth but is interrupted by a pounding on the door. Groaning, he moves for the door, shrugging apologetically.

"Mister Heartfilia's real people are here now," he warns. "Do you need anything else?"

Mira digs through her wallet, stuffs some jewels into his tip jar, and shakes her head. "I appreciate the patience, but should get back home to my brother and…"

A hulking man steps through the doorway without waiting for an invitation. Mira lifts her chin, swallows thickly, and repeats. "I appreciate the patience, but should get back to my brother and Lucy."


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Fairy Tail' nor am I profiting from this.

I appreciate every reader, favorite, and follow so much. Thank you so much, guys.I realize there might be several questions upon completing this chapter, and those should be answered in the next one.

Enjoy!

* * *

Erza forgets her practiced apology as soon as she comes face-to-face with Elfman and Lucy, he has a rather hopeful, somewhat maniacal smile on his face as he gives the child a small push towards her.

"I wanted to apologize for the other day," she murmurs. "I'm the adult and should've behaved as such."

"I should've been paying closer attention to her," he says. "I have a way that you can make it up. Lucy needs to learn manners, right? Teaching her will build a relationship and make her less of a little savage at the dinner table."

Erza sighs and observes the little girl closer. Her blisters have been meticulously cleaned, cared for, and are healing. Her pigtails are sloppy but then Elfman has never been known for his skills with hair. No matter his sloppy skills, she leans into his leg and gives her a nervous smile.

"What's her preferred learning method?"

"You can't just stick her before some books and lecture. Fighting with her will just ensure that she fights back. show her the action, praise her, and then she repeats it."

Her interest has shifted back towards Elfman, and she marvels over how enraptured the little girl is. Children don't really avoid him, but their interest typically lies closer to how strong is he, and could he beat this creature in a hypothetical fight? Lucy watches him like he's just beaten down every single creature in the hypothetical fights and then trained them to become stronger.

"You haven't been together very long, but she's already become so attached," Erza shakes her head. "I'll teach her and do my best to be patient with her as it seems she certainly isn't going anywhere, and we'd better get along, right?"

Elfman gives her an appreciative nod, crouches and presses their foreheads together. "You're going to have breakfast with Erza here, okay? I'll be waiting over by the bar, right where you can see me."

Lucy nods, pushes her forehead against his, and follows her towards the rapidly filling table. Erza chooses a mostly empty corner and waits until she stops squirming before she reaches for the napkin.

"Some people tuck the napkin into their shirts," she explains. "We'll be spreading it over our laps, though."

She slides the ring off, snaps the napkin open, and spreads it over her lap. Lucy's movements are far more awkward with a sloppy wrist flick and ring nearly rolling off the table, but she manages to get it spread over her lap. She nods but does not attempt patting her head, squeezing her shoulder, or extending her praise beyond the nonverbal.

Erza reaches for the serving spoon. "We have a lot of people which means we have a lot of food. No one will ever go hungry here, but it also means that we cannot just stick our fingers into the bowls, okay? You can just ask for help."

She doles out generous helpings but clears her throat before Lucy can jump onto her plate. Erza grabs her fork and motions for Lucy to watch her. She stabs some eggs and lies her fork against the plate and waits for her to repeat the action.

Lucy grips her fork like a sword. Her brow puckers with determination as she hovers over the eggs. Her initial stabs scrape and squeal over the plate and manage only to gather bits and pieces. Still, she looks expectantly towards Erza.

"A spoon might be better," she murmurs. "You're doing well, though."

Elfman watches their progress with a growing smile. Sure, food is still going everywhere between the table, floor, and her clothing, but she's eating with a fork. Makarov watches the food fly with a chuckle and shakes his head.

"How is she adjusting?" He asks. "I heard her painting was rather unsettling."

"Lucy seems unbothered with it," he replies. "I expected she might have nightmares. I hoped she might give us more than just a game of charades."

"I understand how difficult it is, but you must be patient. For now, we can only hope Mira returns with information as soon as possible."

Elfman chews on his cheek. "Mira planned on coming back as soon as she got information. Lucy did fine this morning but didn't really know she was gone. I convinced her that she could have bath, breakfast, and clean clothes without waking up sis."

Makarov's response is interrupted by roaring laughter. Even Gray and Natsu have slung their arms around each other, seemingly frozen as Lucy picks eggs from Erza's hair. He gives an affectionate sigh and shakes his head.

"Lucy is still learning," he chuckles. "Let's just hope she doesn't try eating those eggs…"

Everyone's laughter is just beginning to settle into snorts and wheezes when the furious knocking begins. Makarov leaps down from the bar and heads for the door.

"Everyone better behave," he demands. "We can frighten our new recruits after they join our guild. Now, how can I help you?"

Makarov backs away looking ashen. Three soldiers fill the doorway with broad shoulders, dour faces, and heavy boots. The tallest one steps forward and clears his throat.

"We're looking for Elfman Strauss," he calls and scans the room. "Perhaps we should do this outside. I do not wish to cause any more upset than necessary."

Elfman raises a hand and moves towards them. "I'm right here; what do you need?"

No one is chattering, laughing, or snorting anymore. Now, everyone is watching him and the soldiers. Lucy has ceased picking through Erza's hair and is watching the soldiers with wide curious eyes. The tallest soldier motions him forward.

"I must insist we do this outside," he says. "Would you please step outside with us?"

His companions squirm back and forth. One speaks to the floor. "Sir, it was requested we bring the little girl…"

No one is watching anymore. Everyone is speaking over one another and moving and attempting to hide said little girl from view. Their efforts are useless, though, because she twists from Erza's grip, runs past Natsu, and even bats Happy away. Instead, she runs directly towards Elfman and throws herself around his legs.

"Let's go outside," he says and lifts her into his arms. "We'll go outside."

Lucy presses her ear against his chest, squeezes her eyes shut, and clutches his shirt until the noise fades. Even as the door closes, he does set her down and she does not loosen her grip.

"I appreciate the cooperation," the soldier sighs. "I didn't want to cause any scenes."

"You never could've avoided a scene," Elfman warns. "Our guild is known for causing scenes and severe destruction."

He recieves a thin smile. "I've witnessed its destruction. Now, I must ask you to set the child down or hand her over to us, whichever will cause less distress. Elfman Strauss, you are  
under arrest for the kidnapping of Lucy Heartfilia."

"No," he gasps. "I didn't kidnap Lucy…I didn't kidnap anyone. I found her abandoned behind a tavern dumpster…"

"I am prepared to take a statement," he says. "I also have the necessary information for you, regarding the child. now, please either hand her over or set her down for the  
transportation."

"I'll do whatever is asked." Elfman drops his voice. "Just don't make me hand her over to some stranger."

Lucy presses her face further into his chest. Her fingers dig into his shirt. He exchanges a glance with the other soldiers and then gives a resigned sigh.

"You may hold onto her for now," he agrees. "But please be prepared…"


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Fairy Tail' nor am I profiting from this.

Thank you so much for favorting, following, reading, and reviewing! I almost cried while writing this chapter and would love some reviews, especially since this chapter is heavy.

* * *

Mira isn't a stranger to living in the spotlight, given that reporters shove microphones and cameras in her face for Sorcerer Weekly. Their attention is generally positive, though: ask a couple questions, sign the magazine, and take a photo together.

Right now, she would give anything for someone to shut the spotlight off and ignore her.

It seems that everyone knows, she, Mirajane Strauss has a brother sitting in jail for kidnapping that Heartfilia girl. She attempts rushing home because this must be some mistake and he really didn't kidnap her. It only earns her sunburnt skin and a twisted ankle.

"Porlyusica," she calls and pounds on the door. "I know the policy regarding visitors. I need help, though."

Mira will learn to heal and keep everyone away for the next three months. She can up the deal into three years should that be what Porlyusica chooses. Just slather her skin with a salve, tape some ice to her ankles, and send her home to correct this. There's a frustrated grumble and then she's yanking the door open.

"Hurry inside, girl," she says. "I've heard the rumors along with everyone else in Fiore."

Porlyusica moves her around with no friendliness or warmth, her touch clinical and cool. She does not attempt rushing through her work, though, something which Mira cannot decide whether she's grateful for or not.

Desperate, she searches for something to focus on while she moves back and forth between cabinets, grabbing bottles, and mumbling under her breath.

"I probably shouldn't ask," she murmurs. "What're people saying? Do you know?"

"A rumor can only cause confusion, trouble, and turmoil," she grumbles. "I already don't have a use for humans, and rumors simply strengthen that resolve. You needn't be concerned with rumors, be concerned with the truth."

Rumors are far more fun than knowing the truth, though, right? Everyone adds changes, twists, and dramatizes their own version for the mill with the reminder: it didn't come from me. Fun ceases with the tame or not-so-tame truth. Mira scoffs and hunches forward. Her hair is dirty and tangled enough that she can hide behind it for a cry. But her brother would scold her for not being a man and facing her troubles.

"No one cares about the truth," she whispers. "My brother is sitting in jail. I know Elfman and he's withholding every emotion possible because he's a real man and no one will see him break. It will be ruined, though…once someone comes along and tries taking Lucy from his arms or unpeels her from his leg."

"Whether people care doesn't matter." Porlyusica sighs. "I cannot carry this weight anymore, and you deserve to know the truth."

Mira raises her chin and peers through her hair. Burrs and leaves weave her tangles together, and she is now hyperaware just how terrible it smells. Porlyusica dumps something into a bowl and sprinkles some bitter smelling herbs atop it.

"It must sit before application," she announces. "I am not attempting to just unburden myself by sharing this. I would've preferred it remain secret, but it seems appropriate that people know."

"I'd like to hear everything." Mira swallows dryly. "I need to hear everything."

"I do not lack sympathy," she says. "Lisanna's passing was difficult on everyone, especially on him and I realized that. Upon discovering he moved into the wild with intentions to develop a better grip on his magic, I prepared for any injuries he caused himself or others. It seemed that he was truly developing a hold over his magic and wouldn't need any assistance."

"His injuries were barely healed," she whispers shakily. " I got into a giant fight with him about not going."

"Layla Heartfilia intended on visiting her old guild, Love, and Lucky with her daughter. Her, husband, Jude Heartfilia was still building his business and couldn't leave. Layla was a highly skilled celestial wizard and accompanied with multiple guards. However, the weather took a turn and their carriage was attacked by some members from Phantom Lord Guild. I believe their intentions were killing the guards and taking Layla and Lucy for ransom."

A celestial wizard. Little stick figures with ruined faces. Mira shivers and presses her knuckles against her knees.

"Every guard was slaughtered by the time he arrived there," she sighs. "Layla Heartfilia attempted fighting, but her focus was primarily on keeping her daughter stashed away from the fighting. I would've examined her, but he couldn't carry two bodies and she would've preferred her daughter to be taken."

"How did he find them?"

"No one can disguise deaths stink." Porlyusica shakes her head. "I asked and pressed but he wouldn't reveal what happened to the members from Phantom Lord. I believe in his takeover form he must've lost control and murdered them. I opened the door and discovered him soaked in blood, crying, and begging for help while a little girl wailed in his arms. It was an obviously traumatic situation for everyone involved, and what he asked and what I did? It is forbidden."

Porlyusica suddenly appears much older. Her shoulders slump and she breathes a long slow sigh. Her eyes are glazed and far away when she speaks.

"I wiped the incident from their memories," she whispers. "I didn't touch her memories with her father and mother or her other memories. I never touched those, but it is a powerful magic. A little girl has no hopes of defending her memories against such a magic. Her previous life became fuzzy and some things were lost completely."

"What happened next?"

"I don't know." Her lips twitch into an almost smile. "I woke and they were gone. It was not even a week following their treatment was the news published: Layla Heartfilia found dead and her daughter is missing. Jude Heartfilia is offering a reward and Phantom Lord would murder anyone withholding information. I might hate humans, but I still have an obligation to my patients in keeping their privacy."

"You just broke that rule," Mira says dryly. "You shattered it actually."

"Be concerned with the truth, Mirajane Strauss."

"No one will believe it; everyone will just see it as some new rumor," she warns. "Everyone will just take it and make their own version."

"People might view it as a rumor." Porlyusica nods. "I am willing to write my statement, though. I am going to send you home with something, which must be given to Elfman and Lucy as soon as possible. It will restore their memories, but it will be a long and highly unpleasant process for everyone involved."

"Porlyusica…" Mira watches her move around with a renewed energy. "I hope you realize what outing this deed means."

"It has implications for us both, girl. No matter how grateful Jude Heartfilia might be his daughter was saved, he wants her back."

"I know."


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Fairy Tail' nor am I profiting from this.

I am going through a difficult time right now both emotionally and mentally, and really appreciate everyone being so patient. I've outlined our remaining pieces/stories and look forward to sharing them with everyone.

* * *

Lucy frowns and gives his cheek another pat. No matter what she does, he refuses to raise his head or laugh. Every attempt just seems to make him grip her tighter and tighter. It seems like strangers are hovering everywhere: behind desks, in corners, and even in front of the bathroom.

Lucy mashes her lips together and squirms until she grasps his cheeks.

"You're sticky." Elfman raises his head with an echoing laugh. "How does that even happen? What do you touch? Everyone was watching you."

A better question, one which he doesn't want to be answered: who's going to watch her now? These soldiers have cleaned up his guilds messes, hauled a few drunkards away, and can usually calm crowds. Lucy is far more work than a guild mess, crowd, and drunkards combined, though.

Elfman runs his hands through some non-existent tangles and covers her ears. He turns towards the nearest soldier.

"Am I allowed to ask questions?"

"You may ask, but I might not answer."

"Once we're separated, who will look after her?"

He receives a slow apologetic headshake. He drops his hands and accepts the frustrated hair ruffle. Now, isn't the time to make her promises or lull her into sleep. Everyone appears to be waiting and watching. It appears everyone expects him to snap, demand release, or use his takeover form.

But she's watching, and he is not the one who performs the expected outburst.

Her patience is beginning to wear thinner and thinner. Lucy ceases squirming and begins sighing and turns his legs into a makeshift slide. It provides her with temporary fun, but she quickly becomes bored. Her squirming and sighing resume as she searches for something new to play with.

"It's like waiting for supper," he murmurs. "We don't get any dessert, though."

Lucy goes still and climbs into his lap. Her arms wrap around his neck. Her face presses into his collarbone. It doesn't appear that anyone is watching them with any more scrutiny than before. Everyone remains absorbed in their work, pausing every few moments to check on them. Her breath escapes in panicked puffs, her nails dig deeper and deeper into his skin. A soldier cranes their neck and mashes their lips together in concern.

"I can find someone to take her to the restroom," they offer quietly. "Is she able to use the restroom herself?"

"Look, she just runs off and goes by herself when she needs to," he says and attempts detaching her. "Come on, you don't even get like this when you're tired. What's the matter?"

Lucy cranes her neck, sniffing, and peeking with wet eyes towards the door. It feels appropriate, natural to tighten his grip and prepare for whatever is coming through those doors. But everyone is watching the doors with her and gripping her tighter might just be taken as a threat. Elfman gives her wrist a gentle squeeze and takes a deep breath as the doors swing open.

Freed Justine struts with an undeserved confidence, considering that everyone is arching eyebrows, whispering, and look totally unintimidated. Levy McGarden lacks his confident strut but gives everyone a polite smile and wave.

"I sincerely apologize for barging in like this, but its an emergency situation." Levy crouches and extends her arms. "I can take her for a moment."

Freed raises a hand before anyone can approach with an objection. "I will not have this known as 'barging in' by anyone. We were sent by Master Makarov after all. I realize you must have some questions for us, but I have some for you. Do you have any objections, Levy?"

"I have none."

"Where were you intending on keeping her until her father arrives? I imagine she isn't the first child to arrive here with a guardian. You likely have some room prepared upon their separation. Lucy knows no one here but is extremely attached and comfortable with him. It would be much better to maintain a neutral environment than shoving her into a new traumatizing situation?" Freed glances around the room with a smirk. "I know Jude Heartfilia is a powerful man, whose power extends far beyond what anyone here has. Imagine how he would feel knowing what you put his daughter through."

"I will retrieve his processing papers. It is necessary he return on a later date, though. A failure to comply will result in arrest and an added charge. I expect you have enough jewels to bail him out."

His cocky smirk only intensifies. "I wouldn't have wasted my time here otherwise."

* * *

"Everyone knows what happened, but we're doing our best to dispel any rumors," Levy warns and reaches up to give him a pat on the back. "Master Makarov asked everyone to go home for today while he tries sorting through what happens."

"How were you two roped into this?"

"No one can decipher things better than us, right?" Levy lowers her voice. "I believe Laxus had some part in convincing Freed to help. I doubt that he enjoys Lucy as much as everyone else, but absent parents, whether intentional or not will always cause him to intervene somehow."

Truthfully, he couldn't even imagine anyone from the Thunder Legion enjoying children. Bickslow might convince his babies to play with a child, but that would probably venture closer into terrifying them. Evergreen and Freed are too cold for most adults.

Laxus?

"I would go thank him in person like a man," he sighs. "But we probably shouldn't leave the house more than necessary."

Her smile becomes more apologetic than polite. Levy drops her hand and turns back towards the doors where Freed emerges with an armful of paperwork. His lips are twisted into a snarl as he dumps a generous portion into her arms.

"I've never interacted with such indecent people," he says. "I jumped through far too many hoops for this paperwork. Do you know what this is? It is a record of the damages which the guild has done."

"What do you need that for?"

"It doesn't have anything to do with your case." He shrugs. "I want to play with the soldiers, though, and change records. I have your paperwork right here."

Freed gives an exasperated sigh as he shuffles through the paperwork. It hurriedly becomes outright irritation and then disgusts as he discovers the source. Lucy coos and gives his long hair another gentle batting. Levy covers her mouth, a poor attempt in stifling her giggles.

"I see she feels better," she says. "Children know more than we give them credit for. You're not so nervous anymore, Elfman, which means she's calming down."

"I fail to understand her cuteness," he mutters. "You can take her back now. Shoo, child. Shoo."

Her coo becomes a high-pitched giggle, and she begins a determined chase. Levy's giggles become snorts as he clutches the paperwork against his chest and flees.

"Please tell Laxus that I appreciate his help."

"Laxus will hear about everything." Her snorts dissolve. "I'll make sure to include the chase part."

"I'll take her home soon."

What he doesnt say: we're all going to be locked up soon.

Just let her have this.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Fairy Tail' nor am I profiting from this. Thank you so much for the favorites, follows, and reading! We have offically reached the halfway point!

I love getting your reviews!

* * *

In every stressful situation, Mira relies on three things: hot baths, tea, and long naps wrapped up in her favorite robe. Her scalp is beginning to ache from being wrapped up. Her tea has gone cold, and her skin remains flushed. Her cup might as well be filled up with sand given that every sip just makes her throat tighten up. Someone should speak before she snaps and shakes her brother, demanding that he have some reaction other than just sitting with his hands folded in his lap.

"I won't scream," she whispers. "I don't have the energy to scream right now. I don't even have the energy to be angry or upset. Right now, I just care that you and Lucy are okay."

Elfman shrugs and rubs his mouth with a grimace.

"What's going to happen once this drink takes effect? Did Porlyusica give any explanations?"

"No, she didn't really elaborate on what to expect." Mira stands up and grabs her cup. "Would you like anything? I can make some more tea, or we have the ingredients for a shake. How does a sandwich sound?"

"I appreciate the offer, sis, but right now? I just want some sleep."

Mira nods and pulls her knees towards her chest. A long nap isn't an option between her raw nerves and Lucy currently residing in her bed. Even the gentlest teas won't be enough to calm her nerves and soothe her dry throat and jumpy stomach. Another hot bath will just aggravate her skin further.

"I'll keep busy," she announces. "Then I don't have to think."

Mira tightens her robe, throws her towel into the overflowing laundry hamper, and runs a comb through her still wet hair. Her sore scalp protests and provides a necessary albeit temporary distraction.

Once her hair has been tamed into something semi-decent, she moves onto tackling the rest of the house.

Her mind remains numb as she goes through task after task. Every dish receives a meticulous scrubbing and drying. Her laundry is scrubbed until her knuckles threaten to crack open and bleed. Even crouched down on the floor, she fails to see any obvious dirt or dust but drags the broom and bucket from the closet. Mira stuffs the bucket into the sink and twists the faucet. Hot water is just beginning to trickle from the fountain when the screaming begins.

In her brief time alive, she knows pained, upset, and sick screams. Lucy is not screaming in pain, upset, or illness, though. Her scream is sheer panic and terror.

Mira sprints towards her bedroom, promising over and over that she's coming. Elfman stumbles from his bedroom with the same worried expression.

Her face is flushed bright red. Her cheeks are streaked with tears and snot. Her breath escapes in loud and wobbling gasps. Mira extends her arms, and she practically leaps from the bed.

"Everything is okay," she whispers and runs a hand up and down her back. "Were you having a nightmare? A nightmare is never real no matter how strong or realistic it might seem."

Lucy pushes away and shakes her head. Her upset dissolves into frustration as she wiggles free and begins canvasing the room. Everything receives a quick inspection before she moves onto the next object. Lucy goes from room to room with mounting frustration, digging through drawers, opening cabinets, and mumbling under her breath.

"What're you looking for, kid?" Elfman crouches beside her only for her to move away. "Is it something we can help you find?"

Lucy hugs her waist and rocks back and forth. Her expression is far more hopeful than pouting even when the siblings remain silent. Huffing, she repeats the action albeit with a little more force this time.

Mira takes a deep breath, kneels, and gives her shoulders a firm squeeze.

"I realize what you're asking for," she says gently. "I understand how much you must miss her because we miss someone too. It hurts me to tell you this, but she is gone. A terrible thing happened, and she could not be saved. I am so sorry, Lucy, but she is gone and cannot return."

Lucy takes a deep breath, emits another horrific wail, and twists away. Helpless, she looks towards her brother. It's not her first time confronting a temper tantrum. Her experience isn't up to par with some of the parents in the guild, but she knows how to manage them with her younger sibling experiences.

Taking her into a different room, ignoring her and leaving the room feels wrong. Any attempts at holding her will likely cause them both injury and further upsets.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm so sorry."

Her apology goes unheard over the shrieking and sobbing. Each violent sob causes her body to quiver. Lucy pauses and rubs her face onto the floor, a poorly substituted tissue which only serves to make her face rawer. Elfman leans down until his head rests between her shoulder blades.

"I'm going to be forced to remember it, aren't I? I'll be forced to remember it just like she is now."

Mira nods, apologetic and numb. His head presses firmer and firmer between her shoulder blades. Her brother never one for tears, sniffles, and then her shoulders are wet. Some piece in her openly objects and protests, because she and Elfman are far too old for this.

His sniffles become buried between her shoulder blades and continued screaming. Mira joins her on the floor and presses her cheek against the floor. His tears soak through her robe, warming her skin. His fingers wander until he can grasp her sleeve. Mira closes her eyes, takes a shaky breath, and joins them in crying.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Fairy Tail' nor am I profiting from this.

I am not that overall happy with this piece. I have been struggling in my personal life and getting these characters into their appropriate emotional spaces is even harder. I won't upset anyone with a thousand details, but here are the broad strokes: three deaths (two being suicides), bad anniversies casually piling atop each other, water leakage, close friends splitting up, friends in crisis, new dog, family problems, and brother moving away for college.

* * *

Everyone wakes up sore, limbs tossed in every direction, seeking comfort. Every blind and curtain has been drawn; a merciful act which provides temporary solace from the world. With a deep breath, he rises, withholding the pained hiss and groan as he tiptoes towards the window. Lucy sniffles and raises her swollen face with mild interest before pressing her face back into the carpet.

Everyone else's windows are darkened. A lone streetlight performs a couple of hopeful blinks before turning off.

"I'd prefer the sunrise," he grumbles. "It feels like someone came through and just turned everything off."

Mira begins carefully rolling her neck back and forth, grimacing with every crack and pop. "We haven't slept enough for the sunrise. I always wake up anytime we share a room because you snore so hard it causes the floor to vibrate."

"I've just got a manly snore." His laugh is hollow. "You've done more than enough. Please go and try to get some sleep."

Her pained expression becomes relaxed and grateful. Her legs are shaky but she manages to stand and wobble over a hug.

"I've got something for Lucy," she whispers. "I should've given it to her last night, but our minds were scattered. I'll run and get it now."

Her 'running' is careful tiptoeing as she approaches the still indifferent Lucy. Her movements remain cautious, slow as she extends the wallet towards her. Mira swallows hard and clears her throat before speaking.

"You might not remember this right now. You might prefer forgetting things right now, huh? Sometimes, things that belonged to the people we love can bring us comfort. Lisanna's clothes don't smell like her anymore but I still keep a shirt under my pillow."

Lucy nods and clutches it against her chest. Her expression remains blank even as she traces the creases and moves around the stains. Her pinky does connect the stains while her thumb and forefinger crawl from one crease to the next. As much entertainment as it provides for her, watching her and the dead street provides him with nothing. He joins her with a grunt, lacing his fingers together over his stomach,

"I'll bet that you could mimic anything with enough practice. Mimicking people gets things. People will give you attention and when you're lucky, it gets rewards. You aren't learning, though. Sure, someone will give attention or food, but can always change their mind later."

Her tracing pauses. He laces his fingers tighter, gritting his teeth and listens for any sounds other than steady breathing from his sister's room. Everyone knows about his public ugly crying sessions following Lisanna's death, but no one witnesses his eventual coping mechanism. Their grief might be shared and understood over and over, but he can't — won't share this part.

Lucy watches as he raises his hands towards his chest and lowers his voice. "I'm a real man and haven't been purposely avoiding this conversation. You're probably irritated that we didn't donate more clothes. We needed something more than a gravestone and Natsu wouldn't share Happy."

His voice cracks as he mentions the dragon slayer. His massive chest heaves, threatening fresh tears before he regains control and continues.

Lucy mashes her lips together and opens the wallet. Mommy isn't coming back. Her dreams keep showing her swatting someone, wheezing and begging for them to leave her. Their guards' don't play along with her game. Mommy isn't coming back, but something in her fuzzy brain insists that she search harder. Her dreams won't be like this forever, right? What's she meant to dig through?

Her thumb grazes the silver key. Her fuzziness doesn't magically disappear, nor does anything appear. Lucy wiggles it free, squeezing it tightly in her hand and presses both wallet and key against her chest.

"I don't know much about celestial wizards," he whispers. "Loke won't speak about his experience with them. I always considered him some coward, because he runs from the fear. I can't do that anymore, huh? I'm not much better."

Lucy presses the warming key between her palms and considers her recent dreams. Her guards don't seem magical with their armor, shields, and swords. Their skill levels don't matter, because everyone continues winding up scattered and broken. Her mother screams over their orders and jams her golden key into a growing puddle. Sticking it in the water gives her the mermaid woman, and her mother has never allowed her to dangle from her tail before, but her dream says differently.

Her mermaid woman has a name. Her guards have names. Her, friend, the man with the heaving chest and cracking voice has a name.

Her fingers graze his cheek with the delicacy someone would reserve for a newborn kitten, but it still causes him to flinch away. Her voice is slow and scratchy.

"Mm…m…fr—frand," she croaks. "Mm…m…fr—frand…"

He doesn't give her a chance to continue. He flees the apartment, ragged panicked breaths echoing off the darkened streets.

Atonement is cruel.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Fairy Tail' nor am I profiting from this.

I am bak! I have been through an emotional and mental wringer, but things are getting much better. Thank you so much for being patient and enjoying this series.

* * *

Mira doesn't appear grouchy or even that surprised when Lucy digs her fingers into her eyelids.

"I won't go back to sleep," she promises, batting her hands away. "I just need a minute."

She's just snuggled back into the mattress when her stomach unleashes a loud grumble. Her smile is defeated as she tosses the blankets back, rising with a small groan.

"I'm up for real now," she says. "I'll change and get breakfast ready. Does that sound like a deal?"

Lucy accepts her offer with a quick nod and semi-apologetic pat on her eyelids before dashing from the room. Her stomach continues growling and whining but she moves slowly through her morning routine.

Her brother isn't causing their apartment to vibrate with his snores or stomping around, ignorant to how heavy his footsteps are. Lucy isn't crying or screaming. Her face is losing its puffiness and she's willing to interact again.

"I should've known he would run." She steps into her closet, searching until she spots her sister's clothing, folded into tight squares. "He's not doing this to avoid consequences or hurt anyone. He might feel like a coward for running, but he's not that either. People might think he's just some simpleton only interested in fighting, but he's not."

Lisanna's clothes don't respond. Dust isn't disturbed. Wrinkles don't form. A spider doesn't leap towards her, some sign that her sister is listening.

"I know he's much smarter than people believe. I know how much he cares for every living creature including the ones others wish would disappear. I know he wants to fix this without hurting anyone, but he knows that's not possible…"

Her ears hunch towards her shoulders. It's no worse than other times he's run off. He's going to come back but rushing him will just further the distance between them. For now, she can turn her focus onto making breakfast and keeping this calm environment.

* * *

Mira manages peace despite her cold coffee and convincing Lucy her syrupy hands must be wiped down unless she wants ants to steal her. Wiping her hands takes extra patience as she twists around, determined to find some sticky puddles on the table.

"How does one person get so sticky?" Mira groans. "Growing up, I struggled with getting my brother and sister to wash their hands. I did finally manage it with some help. During the summer, ants enjoy living in our house, especially living in sticky and unwashed things. I warned them: wash up and quit being sticky or the ants will take you away."

It's a comforting memory for her, evokes genuine panic from Lucy, something which both amuses her and makes her feel just the tiniest bit guilty.

"Don't worry," she hurriedly tacks on. "Ants don't take children. I was just teasing them, hoping it would make them listen."

Her fear slowly dissolves back into post-pancake sleepiness, furthered with every gentle wipe that removes another sticky layer. Finally, she backs away, satisfied with her handiwork.

"I'll leave you alone now," she promises. "Now, how does some coloring sound?"

Lucy manages five drawings before her inevitable sugar crash, drooling on the couch arm and clutching crayons in a fist. Mira forgoes cleaning around her, tiptoeing back to the kitchen for some cold coffee when the quick tentative knock comes. It's not enough to stir the little girl from her slumber but is more than enough to make her hurry for the door.

Glancing through the peephole brings fresh emotions. Hesitation and nerves leap around in her stomach, rolling over the blossoming hope. Freed couldn't appear broken down did he try. Levys smiling, but it's not quite as bright as it should be. Her brother hovers behind them, clothes and skin caked in filth, looking utterly defeated by the world. Welcoming them inside doesnt make much difference in his expression either.

"I've already eaten breakfast," he promises before she can attack with maternal concern. "I already know the updates, but let's go over them again."

Mira watches him guide freed toward the kitchen, offering drinks that he probably won't touch.

"I don't know where he went last night, but anyone can guess," Levy says quietly. "Master Makarov discovered him outside the guildhall this morning and convinced him to have some breakfast before anyone else showed up. Once he learned that we had updates, he rushed to catch up with us."

"Is it a positive update?"

Levy's mouth becomes a thin line. Whatever update she has remains a secret despite her best death glare. Everyone refuses to disclose any information until drinks are spread, sure to go untouched.

For a long beat, nobody seems to even breathe. Her stomach curls, anxiety rises up in her chest. Freed leans forward and her nerves swell despite his expression remaining neutral.

"We've exhausted ourselves searching for a legal loophole," he warns. "I offer my sincerest apologies, Mira, but he still faces legal troubles. Master Makarov received a letter from a man claiming to be Jude Heartfilia, her father. Mister Heartfilia says he's willing to reimburse everyone for their time and will discuss things further once he arrives."

"Do you have the letter?"

Levy's expression becomes pitying. Everyone can see, hear, feel her desperation now.

"I don't recommend worrying over a Letter right now," Freed warns cooly. "I recommend emotionally separating from the girl while you can."


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Fairy Tail' nor am I profiting from this.

I am very much alive despite having disappeared for months. Yes, things have settled down for now - but that remains up in the air. Thank you so much for remaining around.

* * *

Mira insists on resuming their routine with the promise that it's cleansing. People have already discovered new gossip and either lost interest in their scandal or temporarily forgotten. Leaving the house and socializing with other people will be beneficial. Guild members are beginning to express concern over their wellbeing and are threatening to break the door down.

Mira's persistence begins teetering between well-meaning sisterly affection and an overbearing mother hen. Eventually its enough to sway her brother, but she forgets to mention the part where she intends on using a casual pace and addressing the occasional stares. Mira's sunshiny smile keeps potential whispers quiet and minimizes staring.

Lucy, frustrated with their pace rushes ahead and then hurries back to stutter on what she observed. Picking them up and sprinting would be much easier, but she refuses to move any faster. Worse, she maintains a firm grip on his arm to prevent him from running off.

"I arranged things in advance," she promises. "I knew people would be curious and have questions, which you wouldn't be eager to answer right now. Everyone has been discouraged from giving advice and asking questions."

"I would much rather people be real men," he grumbles. "Ask questions and give whatever advice is supposed to be helpful. You better recognize and accept that its probably going to be rejected."

Mira squeezes his arm. "I've done everything in my power to make this more comfortable. Do you remember our signal for when things become too much? Don't hesitate to use it."

Promises no longer matter even when it comes from his sister. For every awful scenario that runs through this mind, he could admit that being somewhere other than the house was a welcome change. True, he's been sneaking off in the mornings for training, but that involves little interaction with others. He's been forced into taking a short break from the training with Mira worried he could injure something. Taking a break has forced him to acknowledge his sore spots and recognize that a break in the routine is perhaps necessary, though he's allowed complaints.

"I don't intend on sneaking off," he sighs. "I can't run away with how sore everything is and that will get rumors going again. I can always just step outside should something become too much."

Mira gives his arm another squeeze. "Don't forget to use our signal. Everyone will understand."

Everyone isn't a large group. Laxus scans the board and nurses his drink while Master Makarov dozes against the bar. A couple teams discuss prior work, upcoming events while some pause to raise a hand in greeting. Mira corrals Lucy toward an empty table where paper and crayons wait. Right, he's supposed to begin settling back into a routine now.

Hovering or sitting near the teams is tempting, but he can't pick up work until everything here settles and teams have been known to be somewhat cliquish. Master Makarov's peaceful naps are a rarity especially when his grandson is around, but Laxus appears to be his best chance for some company right now.

"Well, have you found anything worth taking?" Elfman asks. "I owe you for borrowing Freed so much. I can't take any work right now but,"

Laxus takes a long drink. "I don't want anything back. Just do the right thing for her, okay?"

"What's the right thing for her?"

"I don't know the right thing for her." Laxus shrugs. "I do know this: were we the children missing? Mira would exhaust her resources just hoping she could discover some lead. I can't see my father being upset other than knowing he lost an experiment that couldn't complain without being beaten. Yeah, my grandfather would care but that's it."

Master Makarov had allowed them to search for Lisanna's body for weeks until he deemed it necessary to begin moving on. Every guild member cared then and everyone cared now. Laxus' father wouldn't have even tried to search for him. A new experiment would show up eventually.

"You can be apologetic for how things happened. You shouldn't have become attached but then several people here became attached to her." Laxus gives him a hard pat on the shoulder. "Don't enter this with further assumptions or hopes."

Her voice wobbles as she raises the picture. "Frand?"

"Yeah, I understand."


End file.
